


I Need a Hero

by Apse_Order



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Attempted Seduction, Attempted Sexual Assault, Dracula Influence/References, Everyone is in the murder family, F/F, Fix-It, Fluff and Crack, Gen Z Abigail Hobbs, Hannibal Lecter Loves Will Graham, Home Renovation, M/M, Multi, Murder Family, Mutual Pining, Possessive Hannibal Lecter, Slight OOC, Through email, Will Graham Helps Himself
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 16,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25575910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apse_Order/pseuds/Apse_Order
Summary: Will decides that if Hannibal is going to sulk in Rome. He's going to sulk in Lithuania at Castle Lecter. It's a beautiful castle anyways, it's a shame nobody's come into fix it.Bedelia is very uncomfortable with the extra guest Hannibal has been toting around Florence.A fix it fic featuring a salty Will Graham converting Castle Lecter into his and Hannibal's dream home.________"....Is Hannibal," he mulled the next words over, "in love with me?" Fredrick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Of course he is dick for brains, have you not been paying attention?"Hiatus until my writers block leaves and I finish some fics on my other account.
Relationships: Alana Bloom/Margot Verger, Chiyoh/Bedelia Du Maurier, Dr. Frederick Chilton/Brian Zeller/Jimmy Price, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter
Comments: 11
Kudos: 145





	1. Waking up

Abigail took a shuddering breath. Her eyes glued to Wills. Will stuttered in a fitful breath. Wrestled with his concious to stay awake, to save Abigail.

Hannibal leaned forward, muttering something to Abigail. She nodded, fear becoming evident on her features. Hannibal's hand came up to her throat, covering the scar where her father had cut into her. He raised the knife that he had used to mark Will, pointing to tip to her artery. Abigail trembled, gripping Hannibal's hand. Will reached out, calling out for everyone to freeze. To just pause. 

He blinked the haze from his eyes and found his vision collapsing on itself fading to black

____________

When Will opened his eyes the first thing he became aware of was the pain in his abdomen. He was not aware of what the state of his body was like at that moment, but he was aware of the pain. It was caved in, a pointed puckered pain that made him think of canyons. Like a river had been carved into his body over a millenia in his sleep. 

The next thought that surfaced was his need for water. Will's eyes opened and a blurry hospital room came into focus. His memories did not come rushing in all at once, they just were there. Nestled in a small pocked in his temples, lumped together in a tumor. A doctor walked up to Will, he asked questions and gave Will water.  
"You have a guest, would you like me to let them in." Will rolled his neck softly in thought,  
"No," he said, "tell them I'm not awake." 

Will had slumped into his bed, reeling his concious back into the deeper parts of his mind. In a flat endless landscape a river at Will's feet, with copy pasted leaves that had been lazered in acute detail. Distantly there was a dog barking in the distance, it was less so a detail rather a habit, over feeling the silence of the river as it drummed to the beat of the blood in his skull. 

The days flew past, inside his mind and outside. Will slept in fits, waking up with the louder thoughts of alert to the hazard of popping his stitches. The softer thoughts of Hannibal's voice playing on repeat. When the Doctor had deemed Will able to stand he insisted Will take a visitor instead of isolating himself. Will suspected the doctor wanted to listen in.

The first visitor Will met was Alana. She refused to look Will in the eyes, and produced newspaper clippings for Will to browse over. Will pointedly ignored all the sensational headlines with the word Ripper printed in bold. He remarked on the recent political state of Balrimore just to spite her and watch her choke on the outraged disappointment she always carried when Will had let her down. Will folded the clippings, tearing off ads that he decided were important for no real reason. And asked Alana, who clutched the handles of her wheelchair, who had been watching his dogs. 

Jack never came to visit. While Price and Zeller sent a card with hospital themed candies asking Will to call them to set up a time he would like a visit. Will decided to call them when he was released from the hospital. 

That left two candidates left. Frederick and Freddie. Will recoiled when the doctor mentioned it. The thought of swallowing his tongue and leaving everyone to deal with their own messes was a very satisfying thought to have in mind when he made his decision.  
"Send in Chilton," he told the Doctor with a resigned sigh. The Doctor nodded opened Will's room door, to motion for someone to enter.

Frederick hobbled in on a painted wooden cane. He smiled fatalistically and pulled up a chair.  
"The one that got away," he said. Will scoffed rolling his eyes,  
"You're an idiot." Frederick ruffled at the insult, his cheeks puffing out like the very idea was impossible. "And you're the hopeless romantic, thinking you could have everything." Will deflated, "Was it that obvious?" Frederick shrugged, "As someone who has been told numerous times that I would switch to the winning team at the deop of a hat, I can tell when someone is playing for both sides, if you'll pardon my pun." Will raised his head from his pillow quirking his brow,  
"What pun?" 

Chilton's silence was telling of a joke that Will was left out of. Frederick beamed ready to share the punchline, "I believe you of all people would be familiar with Hannibal's affinity to classic literature." Will flattened his lips minutely, shifting his arms to prop him up, "The only thing I saw him read was poetry, medical textbooks, the news and crime scene paperwork." Frederick cocked his head, "But that was when you didn't see his true face. If you asked any circle of his society friends they'd tell you Hannibal was a romantic at heart. He wasn't one for the more popular works but he read them, still he perfered the esoteric works." 

Frederick leaned forward with a bemused smile,  
"He would make a reference and I swear, everyone would scuttle about when the discussions were over, trying to find the piece Hannibal made a reference to. He would sit on his hand, like a smug cat watching the canary die in their own bird bath." Will ducked his head to stave off a chuckle. 

Frederick leaned back in his seat settling his hands on top of his cane. The doctor walked back in offering Frederick a teacup. Chilton thanked him and watched the doctor leave. The door swung shut and Chilton turned back to Will.

"I have crossed oceans of time to find you," Chilton quoted, sipping from his teacup. Will's lip twitched at the sight, "Dracula?"  
"I believe in his mind somewhere Hannibal can draw parallels between himself and a blood sucking creature of the night." Will Graham did not snort, but his eyes twitched upward slightly. "....Is Hannibal," he mulled the next words over, "in love with me?" Frederick groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Of course he is, dick for brains, have you not been paying attention?"

Will actually laughed out loud,  
"What?" He spat, " Hannibal's not-no, that's not...no." Chilton sighed,  
"Picture your situation, only if you were a woman. Hannibal produced a daughter for you, you were the only one he opened up to psychologically. He put you above everyone else excluding himself. He asked you to run away with him." Will opened his mouth to interrupt. "-and!" Chilton continued driving his pointer finger up into the air, "he dedicated his "art" to you, your arrival into his life was marked by the copycat. And he made sure that there was no one in your life for you other than Jack and himself." 

Fredrick stifled a blunt laugh,  
"He set up a game for you, where the only way you would win is if you chose him." Will looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. Silence filled the hospital room. Frederick tapped his thumb nervously on the side of cane, "Do you still want to choose him?" Will felt his tongue curl up into knots, "I-I..." he sighed rubbing his face. 

Chilton nodded,  
"That's alright, life changing desicions can't be made in a day. Consider who you are Will Graham and consider what you want." Will looked up, his lips parted. 

"I brought you get well flowers," Frederick added lamely, "they're tulips." He pulled a paper bouquet from inside his coat. Will squinted in confusion, "Tulips are often used as flowers for sympathy and funerals," he blurted out. Frederick blinked in surprise, "Well I think it's a bit too early for funeral flowers," he joked, "but you do have my deepest sympathies." 

Will took the flowers, placing them on the bedside table.  
"Its just a cut, it's not like I was disemboweled in front of Freddie Lounds." Frederick winced but allowed Will a smile. He changed the subject,  
"Alana tells me you have been avoiding facing Hannibal." Will shook his head,  
"Just until I make a decision." Fredrick shrugged, "if it were up to me, I would rather hop into a plane and fly to Taiwan. It would be a very therapeutic to simultaneously piss of the FBI, the news, Alana, Jack and Hannibal." Will smiled, "And there's nothing more therapeutic than pissing off the world, is there Doctor?" Frederick shrugged,  
"An argument could be made that actual therapy has some purpose, but I have yet to see it clasp your brain. Everyone of us thinks we have a good grip on you, but when we tug you just," he shrugged, "slip away."

Will's smile twisted, "I can't tell if everything you say is innuendo or you trying to be insightful." Frederick sipped from his tea cup, "why not both?"


	2. Getting Drinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will talks to Frederick and comes to some revelations. Frederick meets some of Will's friends and is unusually flustered.

Frederick dropped by four more times over the course of Will's therapy. He brought a planting bowl of poppies that he said could be placed in a garden, or kept in a pot. Will decides the pot was less time consuming and drew a decapitated man on the plastic of the bowel with earasble marker. Frederick claimed the victim look eerily similar to a certain man from the news with high cheekbones that he just couldn't place. 

Alana visited one more time, a grim parallel between Frederick. Leaning onto a metal cane that collapsed when she sat down. The skirt she was wearing fluttered around her calves revealing white surgery scars. Alana produced pictures of Will's dogs who had stayed with a neighbor until Alana had been discharged. Will cooed over the photos before asking Alana about traveling west.  
"How far west," she asked, flipping through her phone. 

Will drummed his fingers on his thigh, "Asia?" Alana looked up and blinked,  
"What's in Asia?" Will shrugged,  
"Absloutly nothing, which sounds pretty great right about now." Alana smiled, placing her hand on Will's. Will recoiled, her fingertips felt like they were stamping prints into his skin. Will's hand flinched and he wanted to peel back the suddenly oily flesh until the surface was raw. 

Alana's skin curdled red,  
"Was that the first skin contact you've had from someone other than a doctor?" Will nodded,  
"The last person to touch me was..." he trailed off. The doctor popped his head in just in time time to tell Alana that visiting hours were over. She peered back at Will one last time before leaving. Will called Price and Zeller to arrange drinks. He sucked on one of the ambulance lollipops that came with the various medical themed candy they had sent. 

The day Will was discharged, Brian Zeller picked him up and took Will to the bar to meet up with Jimmy Price.  
"Have you got someone picking you up?" Will blinked in surprise, "I-yh, well...Frederick said he's meeting me here to take me back to my house." Brian groaned,  
"That douche, come on." Will laughed, "No, it's true. He's been really nice to me ever since I woke up." Jimmy downed the rest of his beer, "Probably to get into your pants, wants to know if his theories on your sex life were true," he chortled. Will buried his face in shame, "God, he apologised for saying that I probably did corpse roleplay with my partners." Brian's eyes widened, "Seriously? He published that?"

Will's hands shot up,  
"No, he was going to but Alana refused to let him publish anything related to me." Brian wiped his mouth, "it's good that they're more people for you Will. We really do want to apologise for everything." Jimmy nodded solemnly,  
"We hadn't stopped to think about what you might have been going through and then actually finding out about what you had been going through. It was bad, we felt bad. And Beverly was the only one who knew." Will dipped his head, "You guys don't have to do this. I know you're sorry, it's alright." 

Brian clapped his hand on Will's shoulder.  
"We're ready to support you Will. Through everything and anything you might go through." Will shook his head, "How has Jack been doing." The words sounded right but they didn't seem to fit properly. Jimmy's lips twisted into a sneer. "He's our boss, you know? He has to be forceful but this-" he sighed, "first it was forcing us to be the ones to do to autopsy on Beverly, we didn't want to but Jack convinced us we were the only one who could." 

Brian nodded,  
"I wanted to stare my anger un the eyes, I wanted to face her killer but the more I looked at her, the more I realised that I had detached myself from Beverly clinically. I didn't want to work on her case, I wanted to mourn her." Will nodded,  
"I'm sorry, I didn't realise."  
"We didn't either," Jimmy added, " But Jack kept asking more from us, longer hours, more results, he began to pin Beverly's death on us. He blamed us for not being with her in that investigation." Brian rubbed his face, "He was mourning, we expected it, but what finally did it for us, what truly pissed us off was Beverly's funeral. He didn't go, he called us half way through the reception to investigate one of the hairs found on the judge's corpse."

A silence fell over the table, finally Jimmy spoke, "We're debating whether or not we should resign. The work is...we love it even if the hours are grueling but we can't keep Jack as our supervisor much longer." Will stared blankly in shock,  
"Wow, oh guys I'm sorry. That shouldn't be happening, did you report him?" Brian frowned,  
"I did, after he made an insinuation that the reason why we were behind schedule is because we were sleeping together. But nothing ever came back." Will felt his hands clench, "Well fuck him. He shouldn't be the one to ruin our night." Brian smirked at Jimmy, "Come on, let's get drunk, it'll be fun." Jimmy smiled meekly, "Sure...yeah, alright." 

Somewhere between the fourth drink and Jimmy demanding they do karaoke Will called Federick.  
"They started Dancing Queen and I don't know how long I can hold them off before they force me to sing Love Shack," Will hissed into the phone, "you better come pick me up right now or so help me God, I'll tell Freddie about any malpractice I can pin on you." Frederick chuckled, "I'm pulling into your street give me a second." The call quickly dropped. Frederick stared at his phone in amusment. He pulled into a parking space and hopped into the bar through a cramped door. 

At the front of the room Will was pinned in between Jimmy and Brian's arms, while they sang Dancing Queen at the top of their lungs, shaking Will up and down to coax him into singing. Will was glowering, his arms crossed. Frederick's hand flew to his mouth to cover a laugh. He pulled out his phone, taking dozens of photos for each new position Will had been jostled into. 

The song ended and Will jumped off the stage, frowning.  
"Fuck you," he whispered with out real anger, "delete every one of those photos." Will's phone blipped with an alert of twenty new pictures from Fredrick.  
"Chilton," Brian cooed, "Will has been telling us all about you." He leaned onto Frederick, pointedly dragging his eyes across his body. Frederick's skin blotted red, "He has?" Brian's eyes came to rest on Frederick's lips, "He called you a douche."  
"I did not," Will protested, "You said that!" Jimmy rushed over, peeling Brian off of Frederick, "Oh, Brian, I love you if you're going to sleep with Frederick I'm breaking up with you." Will squinted, "Breaking up?" Brian's eyes widened comically and his hands flew up to cover Jimmy's mouth, "sh, sh, Will doesn't know." Jimmy-who was a surprisingly sober speaker when he was drunk-frowned and replied, "when you yell like that I'm sure everyone in the hotel knows." 

Will looked between the two of them, ignoring Frederick who had been glued in place, a glaze of shock painted on his face.  
"Are you two together?" Brian grinned, "Everynight," he slurred, "unless I spend it with someone else. We're open like that." Jimmy sighed, "He has slept with everyone in the greater Baltimore area." Brian's eyes flicked back appraisingly at Frederick, "Except him." 

"Okay," Frederick shouted, "I'm taking Will back to his house now. Since he's drunk, you guys are all drunk," he reminded. Brian tsked, "We can take a cab."  
"No," Jimmy reminded him," We're walking to my apartment, remember?" Brian pouted, "Come on." Jimmy put a hand on Brian's back herding him out the front door, "Sorry," he whispered to Chilton over his shoulder. 

Frederick watched Will burst into barely contained laughter as they slid into the car.  
"Laugh at my embarrassment," Frederick hissed, "Go ahead, I'll crash this car." Will stuck his tongue out, "Do it, you won't." 

They drove in silence the rumble of the motor a base for the showtunes that lept out of the radio speakers. Will, drunk and unable to read the room, said to Chilton. "So...nice car?" Frederick laughed, "Don't do that, Graham don't patronize me. We have hundreds of more topics to talk about other than cars." Will sniffed, "I'm a bit of a mechanic, I like learning." Frederick snorted, "You're a boat mechanic, and this is a 1985 Chevrolet Corvette so don't puke in here. Or I'll have to commit you." Will hummed inquistively. 

"I pulled an ad for it from a magazine my dad gave me when I was fifteen," Frederick admitted, "I told him I wanted that exact model. He said if I got a job in medicine then he'd consider buying it for me." Will settled his arm on the door, "And?"  
"Apparently going into psychology wasn't what my dad had in mind, so I bought the thing myself to piss him off." Will threw his head back and laughed. "What can I say," Frederick added, "there's nothing more therapeutic than pissing off the world." 

Frederick pulled into Will drive way.  
"This your stop?" Will stepped out of the car,  
"Fortunately so, I don't know how much longer I could stand broadway music," he pointed at Chilton's blaring radio. Frederick chucked a paper ball at Will's head, "Cabaret is great and you can't tell me otherwise." Will picked the ball off the ground, "I'm going inside. Night!" Frederick waved good night and Will rushed inside to see his dogs. 

Will never let his dogs sleep on the bed. Until tonight. All six of them, Will makes seven. Crammed into the queen sized bed Will owns. Everyone of them asleep, except for Will. His eyes were closed, but his mind fired with activity. A dream that blanketed his awake and frozen mind. 

Will was aware of two layers of reality one, his body lying besides his dogs. Two an endless field of grass covering rusted over cars until only the tops could be seen. Will stood on one of the car tops, careful not to break his foot through the aged metal. Above his head trees as large as mesas with smaller trees growing from the sides like parasites. Will look around to see his temple crowned with a laurel of branches that had been torn away. Spanish moss grew from the branches, framing Will's face. A figure walked out of the underbrush, carrying fire kindling in his clawed hands. On the top of his a large mushroom cap grew, it's end was warped and twisted into a crown. The creature leaned forward and Will felt his flesh sear. It placed at hand over Will's eyes drawing them shut and Will's mind disconnected from the dream with a hiccup. His concious whirled to reboot. A shuttery,  
"Hannibal," fell from Will's lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you can't tell Frederick is my favorite character and I just want him and his sass to be in a happy, healthy relationship. I haven't finished reading Dracula but ince I was finished I considered write a Hannibal/Clarice/Will fic. Make sure to edit check me anytime. I have a hard time with editing.


	3. Ships

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will needs to sail to Italy without thinking anything through. Frederick can't believe he has to be the voice of reason here, but he knows if Will gets hurt or worse, Hannibal will be back with a whole world of fury behind him to strike Frederick down, whether of not it was his fault.

Frederick rolled out of bed, picking up his phone,  
"Hello?"  
"Frederick, I think I know what I have to do now." Frederick blinked, wiping sleep from his eyes, "Will, is this about your decision?" The sound of shuffling papers could be heard over the phone. "Will calm down, what's happening?" A dog barked and Will cursed, "who's going to watch the dogs?" Frederick pinched the bridge of his nose,  
"Will," he barked, "go to bed now. We'll talk about this in the morning, I can help you." Will paused,  
"You really want to talk about this?" Frederick said yes. 

"You're not going to tell Jack," Will whispered. Frederick grumbled, "listen, I'm only going to tell Jack when it benefits me to tell Jack. Right now, making sure the serial killer that hates my guts, still has a boyfriend, partner soulmate or whatever when he's done moping is a top priority. Go to sleep." Will sighed anxiously, "I'll call you at seven." 

Frederick opened his mouth to protest but Will hung up. Frederick looked over at the clock,  
"Seven-Will! It's the weekend." He yanked the covers over his should, I'm not getting up until nine." 

Will listened patiently to his phone waiting for Frederick to pick up his call.  
"Will," Frederick answered. Will tackled the conversation,  
"I'm going to find him." Frederick sighed, "And how do you plan on doing that, where are you even going?" Will looked out at the shed behind his house, "He's in Europe, I know it, Italy probably. I want to sail there but-"  
"Absolutely not," Frederick said, "everyone around me is a sociopath, " he groaned, pinching his nose. 

Will shook his head, "I've sailed, from New Orleans to Mexico before." Frederick felt his temples tick,  
"How long did that take you?"  
"Three days."  
"How long will it take you to sail to Italy." Will winced, running a rand through his curls,  
"Twenty days?" Frederick hung up. 

Will looked back at his dogs,  
"I could do it," he told them. Winston sneeze, his head shaking side to side. 

When Frederick called back Will was already looking for a boat at the Chesapeake docks. He had found one boat, the owner claimed could fit two grown men, the salesman said and had only been used one. The price was in Will's short notice budget because the man had broken something easily fixed.  
"What's up," Will answered his phone, jumping on the floorboards to check for rot.  
"Are you at the docks?" Will looked over his shoulder but saw no one.  
"Yeah why?"  
"I'm at lot 2-B." The call ended. Will smiled apologetically to the older man, "I have to check up on something really quick, I'll be right back." 

At lot 2-B, Fredrick sat on the deck of a Catalina 27 sailboat. He stood up, taking off his sunglasses.  
"Will!" Will gaped at the boat,  
"Did you get me this boat?" Fredrick shook his head, "Of course not, the max price for any gift exchange we do is a hundred dollars got it?" Will nodded numbly, "Where did you get this?" 

Fredrick winced,  
"So one of the criminal patients I oversaw owned a lot of boats, and the police held a silent auction since they didn't need the boats. So I maybe bribed or blackmailed the guy who in charge of auctions to make sure nobody knew the boat was for sale. And then I placed a fifty dollar donation. Less than one hundred see." Will shook his head, "I can't take this." Frederick scoffed, "of course you can, I've been using it to tan and I keep getting dirty looks from the other boat owners since I never use the boat. I don't know how. I even added an extension so I could throw a party but it just was never the right thing." Will grinned,  
"If I get with Hannibal, I'll make him promise not to eat you." Frederick clapped Will on the shoulder, "thata boy, now the deal is sealed. We can go back to our friendship and I don't have to be your live in boyfriend until Hannibal gets his shit together." Will glared at him. 

"What," Fredrick asked, "I can be romantic when I want to." Will huffed,  
"That was not romancing that was called being nice to a person. How do you even date?" Frederick shrugged, "Once in a blue moon stuff falls into place." He brightened, "Oh and the best part is, it can fit all your dogs, and you." Will grinned, "I still don't know where I'm going though."  
"Well than you better research, Graham. 

Will sat up the night, deep bags under his eyes tomorrow Will would pack and leave for Europe. He knew Hannibal had to be there, he promised Will that's where they'd gone according to the police report. Hannibal took his psychiatrist, Dr. Bedelia Du Maurier and was last seen in the Martin State Airport of Maryland. Will grit his teeth feeling rage hammer on his breast. 

The image of Hannibal sitting next to some nobody was sickening. Will sat back, tilting his head up toward the ceiling. Buster nosed at his hand, whining in concern. Will smiled, petting Buster softly.  
"Its okay," he whispered, more to himself than the dog but the sentiment remained. 

The next morning Will was awoken by the a phone call.  
"Hello?"  
"Will?" Alana's voice filtered through the speaker, "have you seen the news yet?" Will blinked,  
"I'm not following the news, what is this-" he went over to his laptop pulling up CNN. Pasted at the top of the website was the word Ripper in bold. Will clicked the link, copying the town's name down into his mind. He ended the call with Alana, dialing Frederick.  
"You're leaving," Frederick said.  
"Thanks," Will replied, "I don't know where I'd be with out you." He stuffed two months worth of clothes in a suit case, toiletries in a plastic bag and a years worth of dog necessities for eights dogs in another.

The smell of morning air greeted Will as he hopped out of the door pulling his shirt on. The dogs barked happily, as they were each herded into their leashes.  
"Go get 'em tiger," Frederick texted him as Will began to load things into the car. Will loaded the last dog into the car slamming the backdoor shut. And slid into the drivers seat to head down to the marina. 

Will herded each and every dog into the interior. They trot about, sniffing everything. When Will looked down at his legs he could see only a swirling mass made of dogs. Occasionally one would pop their head up and Will could make a distinguishable shape out of one of the dogs. He rolled out their beds in the interior of the house, several appliances had been removed to make space. Will rolled out his own raised cot. The couches that usually went with the model had been torn out by Fredrick as well as all the rugs. Leaving an open hardwood room. With a bed, an oven and a bathroom. Will made sure the dogs were settled in before leaving them for a grocery run. He tipped the guy at the security stand to pay extra close attention to his boat while Will got groceries. 

The register eyed him warily as Will unloaded enough food for the next two months. Until Will mentioned a family camping trip and they smiled almost knowingly. For the next 16 to 19 days Will would be living on pasta, pbj sandwhiches sandwhiches, eggs, canned or dried fruit and jerky. The gallon water packs he bought had to be carried to the boat by two men who had volunteered at the insistance of their wives. Will thanked them and paid them ten dollars each. 

When he returned the dogs circled around Will. Milling about in a feeling frenzy, of pets and compliments from Will. They watched him unload the food with wide eyes. As Will put away the last of his pasta Frederick called him.  
"Last hour with wifi," Frederick warned him. Will wiped his brow with a chuckle,  
"Well, not really, I'll still get wifi when I stop at places." Fredrick scoffed. 

"I'll call you when I get to West Virginia," Will promised. Fredrick cleared his throat,  
"You can just call me whenever you land, I'll probably be free." Will looked back at his dogs. "I'll take you up on that deal." They told each their good byes. And Will went up above deck. As he climbed the stairs Will explained the boat rules to his dogs.  
"Only one dog allowed on the deck at a time when we're on the open water," he told them. Will cranked a baby gate in place. "You can't bring anything in from the ocean." He stepped up to the sail beginning to start to work the rope. "And no one is allowed to swim until I say you can." 

Will pulled up the anchor. And all the boat owners, who had ever glared at Chilton for never using his boat came out to watch Will in wonder, expecting that boat to have stayed there until it rot. Will waved them all goodmorning sailing into the east.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My friends and I were up all night when I was writing this looking for boat models to fit six dogs. I sent her a picture of the Catalina 27 sailboat,  
> My friend: Lots of potential but will the dogs be safe? 
> 
> Me: The dogs will sleep in the interior and I will sleep on the deck for their safety. 
> 
> My friend: Genius 
> 
> If it wasn't already clear I love dogs, I've never had more than four, but someday I hope to move into a space where I can keep seven dogs.


	4. A Bleeding Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will finds Hannibal with his gift but Hannibal still isn't ready to let Will back into his life.

Will's back was a deep tan. His toes were begining to peel from the sun. And the tips of his ears had been tucked into a baseball cap, while Will let his hair grow out. The sun was setting and Zoe was trotting along the death. Snuffling Will's rolled up pant legs. Will nudged her away, casting a fishing line out into the pink Atlantic sun. He closed his eyes, tilted back and listened to the sounds of the ocean as it lapped the sides of his boat. 

Will sat in front of the oven, reading from a book. One hand, use the thumb to press the binding open. The other stirred a boiling pot of pasta. Winston perched his head on Will's lap, receiving short pats on the head each time Will turned his page, or finished stirring his pasta. Finally Will stood up, the silence of his mind was a deafening comfort now. 

Will passed through the strait of Gibraltar, his boat hugged the Spanish coast. He stopped in Tarifa to let his dogs all walk at once, while Will explored old town, speaking to the locals in a pigeon french to find a place to sell Will beer. He took pictures of himself and his dogs. His favorite picture was the one of a large dome with a sculpted bell in the center. Birds sat on the ledge, craning their neck to pick loose feathers from the down. Will snapped a shot of the strait from Tarifa's beach. He could hear Hannibals voice in his head informing Will of the theological history behind the sight. Will stumbled back into the boat with freshly baked, two bottles of pop. His hair was caked to his scalp with salt water and sand. The dogs were no better, their fur matted together. Will frowned. He looked around for a pit before coming across a water pump. He began to hurdle the dogs into a shaded space before sneaking over to the pump to fill a bucket Will had found on the beach. He carried the bucket over to the dogs, craning his neck to make sure he didn't attract any attention. 

With a careful hand, Will washed the sand from their fur, using his shirt to wipe through the fur. Will winced, knowing he would have to clean them thoroughly later. So far Will had just been washing his hair in the fill up sink, and rubbing powder over his skin. The dogs hadn't warranted getting dirty enough for a bath. Will lifted Buster up to wash his paws. 

Will reached the end of spain. He had eaten nothing but fish and pasta for the last few days. Occasionally he'd stop in a town for les than an hour to buy fruit. Will completely skipped over the Palam island after he received a email from the italian police asking him for an insider's perspective. He refused to stop unless it was a necessity. Night was beginning to fall in front of Will. He squinted into the sun seeing a landmass appear. Will crowed, jumping up. Civitavecchia crawled along the distance, her roof tops, scraping at the red haze the sun left in his wake. 

Will pulled up to the port. He docked, buying a space to stay until Will could send the boat back. With the savings Will had, he bought seven crates for each dog and train tickets to Florence. Will sat back in his train seat, falling sleep until they stopped. 

The first thing Will did was call a hotel. One outside of the cityscape. Two hotels had turned Will away for having pets, one was pet friendly but hung up as soon as Will said how many dogs he had. And finally, finally a hotel told Will, they would take the dogs, so long as they don't leave the room for Will's stay. Will thanked them in the little Italian he had learned on the boat ride. 

Will washed each dog. Zoe, usually took her baths in the sink. But the sinks at these hotels were shallow, flat basins that sprayed water every where. Will tsked, plopping Zoe in the water next to Heidee. When the dogs had settled down. Will stepped into the shower, feeling a near months worth of sweat roll off his skin. After the shower Will cut his hair to Jeopardy playing the the background.   
"You guys be good, okay?" He told his dogs as he changed into work clothes. Winston woofed softly, following Will to the door. Will clicked his tongue and Winston back up, bowing his head. "I'll be back," he promised. 

Seeing the heart made Will feel all the more lame for ignoring Hannibal's motivation. Will examined the picture with reverence. The officer looked around the room nervously.   
"You're not supposed to be here," Will said, flipping through the pages. The officer shrugged, "The others believe it is unwise to bring you into this, Signor Graham. But I believe bringing to justice Il Monstro is a feat above the parameters of the law." Will's lip twitched,   
"You don't even know if I'm on your side." He knew Hannibal was listening, but he wouldn't change his words for the other man. 

The officer leaned forward,   
"He sent you this heart, did he?" Will feigned denial,   
"A valentine written on a broken man." The officer shook his head, "He sent you his heart." Will looked away. "Do you know where he is now," the officer asked. 

Will's skin crawled, he could feel Hannibal's eyes on him, watching the back of Will's neck.   
"If you would leave me, I would like to see what I can." The officer pointed to the door, into the body of the church. Will walked in, at the center of the plaza was a bleeding heart, speared through the center.

Will closed his eyes watching the corpse distend. The pendulum swung and the origami unfolded into a discernable image. A discernable person.  
"Hello Will," Abigail greeted, "it's been a while." Will worked his jaw, feeling his teeth grind. A deep subconcious feeling of Hannibal watching him pierced through Will's design. Will swallowed,   
"Your father's death clung to my psyche with hallucinations and night visions. Can I not close my eyes without seeing you now?" Abigail bounced on her toes, smiling, "you and Hannibal promised to be my raft." Will reached out for her but his imagination could not fathom anything but an outline of her image. "Do you haunt him, too?" Abigail looked over to a blank spot in the walls, "Hannibal has never regretted anything in his life." Will's heart stuttered in his chest. 

"You don't want to forgive him, for what he did to me. What he did to you." Will buried the palm of his hands in his face.   
"If he has never regretted anything, if he's never felt sorry for anything, why should I forgive him?" Abigail's eyes flashed with lightning. Her skin started to sag from the bone turning a bloated pink. Dark splotches painted her face. 

"After all this time, you still pursue him. He still worships you." Will shook his head, "Hannibal does not pray. But he believes in God." Abigail's smile sharpened,   
"He believes in a god. He wishes to know him, intimately." A chunk of Abigail's skin tore away, decayed. It hit the floor with a slick thud. Will stepped back in horror as Abigail's flesh parted in doughy strings. 

From inside Abigail's skin a skeleton stepped out. Golden coins, settled in the sockets of the eyes.   
"Do you love him?" The skeleton asked. Will didn't think the word love fit, saying he loved Hannibal didn't fit. The shape was wrong and the idea was blurred.   
"In my own way," Will admitted, "In a way no one else could, in a way I never could for anyone else. Only him." Will knew Hannibal was listening. 

The skeleton stalked forward, reaching to Will with bony fingers. Will felt his face go slack as it's hand sunk into his chest. And Will uttered under his breath,   
"I never know myself more than I know myself when I'm with him." 

Will opened his eyes with a gasp. A wave of cold washed over his skin and Will was aware of a dryness in his mouth from talking without interruption. He looked up and saw a shadow standing in the darkened part of the church for the staff. Will felt himself drawn to the figure,   
"Hannibal," he shouted. The figure ducked, running into the back. Will gave chase, following closely behind him. 

The hall way opened up to a extensive catacomb, aged bones had been set into the wall. Lining each entrance like an eternally waiting army. Will gasped for breath, the draft of the tunnels stinging his skin. He begged under his breath for something, anything to happen. Will stopped, in the tunnel behind him someone else stopped. Their shoes deliberately scuffing on the ground. "Hannibal," Will gasped. The image of Abigail burned into his skin, her body left untouched to rot in a clinical environment. She would be wasted.

Will clenched his fist feeling all this anger wash over him at once until something snapped. He exhaled, the weight of his hatred melting from his body. "Please," Will asked. The foot steps began to start, walking away. Will panicked, "I forgive you," he blurted. There was no face or voice to speak for Hannibal. The darkness blanketed Will's vision. Somewhere in the depth of Will's mind he could hear Hannibal say, no you don't. 

The footsteps began again and the figure rain off into the distance, his footsteps echoing. Loosing place in Will's mind. He whirled about but could not find the direction the footsteps had headed toward. 

Will exited the church, hanging his head. The officer took the packet from Will.   
"Do you have an idea of where he has gone?" Will tucked his tongue into the back of his teeth and lied. He watched his words roll from his lips. "No, I need more insight into the state of his mind to get a clear perspective." The officer nodded, handing Will a second file. "This is all we have on Lecter and his past. Any addresses connected to him, a personal history." Will nodded, tucking the packet into his jacket, "Do you have any current theories about his whereabouts?" 

The officer shrugged,   
"I have a reputation that was tarnished by a grave mistake in my past investigations. That's what this man does to you, he gets into your mind and feeds you a story that you think is of your own design." He tugged at his coat sleeve, "I told my commanding officers the killer still walks in Florence. They told me I was too hopeful, they called in a specialist. You're Mr. Jack Crawford. Said if anyone knew his psyche it was that man." Will wet his lips nervously, "Jack is wrathful, he has transformed himself into the force of good again Hannibal. Two battling gods. Hannibal is no longer building a game with him."   
"So you're saying Lecter gas lost interest?" Will shook his head, "Hannibal is ready, willing to fight Jack. But Jack is no longer the opposing king on the chess board. Hannibal is no longer playing chess, he's playing a gambling game with himself none of us can predict. He'll come out lucky by sheer force, the prize will be our actions. Everything will fall into place, we just don't know what way." 

"Are you going to defy his will," the officer asked. Will blinked in surprise, the idea of having his own will in Hannibal's game was not a puzzle that fit properly. Frederick's words came back, pounding on his skull. There is nothing more therapeutic than pissing the world off. Will looked over his should into the church. He saw Hannibal standing in front of the skeleton mosaic and for the first time someone, exactly like everyone else, looked back. Hannibal had a story, he wanted hidden. It described inner workings of his brain in perfect code. Will couldn't have thought of a better response, "I want to know him," Will said, "I want to know him better than myself. Only then, when I know his every move, my will will be my own." 

Will nodded to the officer, bidding him good night. Before exiting the church and entering the evening air. Warm wind peppered his face as he walked to his hotel room.

His dogs greeted Will with soft woofs, approaching Will to lick his legs and brush against his clothes. Will fed them with a habitual ease. He peeled off his coat, sinking bank into a chair as he began to read the case file. A picture of a younger Hannibal clipped to the top of the folder. Winston trotted up to Will, licking the palm of his hand. Will snickered, scratching Winston's head gently until words became a solid stream of input and the emotions he felt were drowned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every so often a character is ooc fir plot reasons. But I try and stay as in character ad possible.


	5. Infinitesimal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This will be continued without fail, hopefully a chapter every day shooting for under twenty five chapters. I would really love feedback, you guys. 
> 
> Anyways, Will decides the fill the void that Hannibal left behind but with dogs. Chiyoh has never asked Hannibal for anything in her life, but if he doesn't come get his homeless looking lover, she'll finally commit a murder.

Will boarded another train. This time, the dogs had been fed depressants for the longest journey. Once Will boarded he sat next to a younger man that looked very similar to Nicholas Boyle. He was sneering at a folder, chewing the side of his thumb. Will pulled out a book, begining to read in silence. 

The country side rolled by out the window. Every so often Will would look up, setting had changed but the man had not. His eyes glassy with concentration. When seven o clock rolled around Will resolved to get food from the diner cart. He stood up, and left his stuff tucked securely under his seat. 

He stopped a staff member to ask about the state of his dogs. The man nodded numbly, used to the request. When Will was finished, the staff asked Will to return to his seat after he was done walking about the train. 

They had tin pots of soup sitting on a table in the corner of the dining car. Next to the pot was a tower of ceramic bowls. A small line had formed, moving quickly. Will took his place in line, observing the people around him. 

There were three couples. Two of them were older, american retirees who looked out the windows with wonder. The other couple was a young slavic looking couple that balance a bowl full of crackers between themselves as they talked over french onion soup. When Will's eyes landed on them, the woman looked up and smiled. 

At the center of the dining car was a mother with her four kids. Her clothes fluttered around her asymmetrical frame. She was arguing with one of the children while the oldest was hissing instructions at the others. The youngest caught Will staring and waved softly. He muttered something to his sibling in german. 

Will reached the front of the line. Behind him two men were arguing about a political system Will had never heard of. It seemed friendly, but the taller of the two spoke with a tone of narrow minded arrogance that usually came with politics. The other seemed to realise it and was steering the argument toward work. 

Will's bowl had irises painted on the rim. He said the bowl along the counter in front of a pit that was labeled tomato bisque. He sighed, the normalcy felt artificial forced. 

When he looked around Will realised with a shock that this was where his life had come to. He was on a train tracking down a man he was mad at for seemingly no motivation but to coax him into forgiving Will. His friends were all the way across the globe and he was eating train food. He tasted his soup, it was better than the train food in America but only just. Will laughed bitterly to himself, srapping along the bottom of his bowl. He was raising the spoon to his mouth when a spot landed on the table cloth. A bright red splatter on a pristine white table cloth. Like blood, his mind supplied. 

The soup tasted like ash in his mouth after that. And Will cursed Hannibal with every bite, determined to make this food better than everything he ever cooked. 

The train stopped in Poland at four AM. A man in a pressed uniform pulled Will's dogs out of the train leaving them in Will's possession. They were begining to wake up, stumbling about in their carriers. Buster licked Will's hand through the grate. Will texted an alert to Fredrick. And Fredrick sent a picture of himself on the news paper being interviewed by Freddie Lounds. Above his face were the words, "Your way through mighty water, though your footprints were not seen." 

Fredrick added to the image,  
"I didn't go to Sunday school enough to quote bible verses. But Ms. Lounds wished to paint my "torture" as divine. She was also quite curious to the nature of our relationship." Will groaned as he loaded his dogs onto a rolling suitcase carrier. "What did you say," he texted. 

Fredrick sent another picture with Fredrick standing outside Will's hospital room, his palm flat against the glass looking in. Will remembered that moment, it was the third time Fredrick came to visit with spicy candies to celebrate the doctor allowing Will to eat acidic and spiced foods. He told Will they were sour and took a picture of Will face as he panted into his water. Will threatened to kill Fredrick, much to the horror of the hovering nurse. 

'Survivors Guilt,' had been printed in blocked letters in the corner of the image.  
"Who's even interested in us getting together," Will texted, "who even pays this much attention to killers' victims?"  
"Freddie Lounds does," Fredrick replyed, "I called for an interview to remind my colleagues that not only have I survived two serial killers. I also happen to be the top of my field." Will's lip twitched in a condescending amusment. "You're not subtle." He could see Fredrick chuckling. 

"Please Graham, if I was anymore subtle you'd want to fuck me." Will grinned to himself, "Are you saying you're a less subtle verision of Hannibal?" Winston began to bark in his kennel. Will hushed him, stepping out of the train stations property line into the parking lot. A hotel was just a block away with a free room for all his dogs. The woman at the desk had insisted they wouldn't have done this for Will if it had been tourist season. And Will was going to thank them by not wrecking his room. 

"I consider myself a lesser being to Hannibal in some ways, and a superior being in others. Like my ability to control any urges I have to murder." Will chuckled, crossing the street to the hotel's parking lot. He entered, giving them his name. 

"What should I have for dinner," he texted Fredrick.  
"When I did theatre tech, we used to eat out cheap Chinese food, do you see anything like that?" Will filled the last of the dog bowls with food. "You were in theatre tech?"  
"My dad wouldn't let me act." 

The dogs descended on their food as Will descended the stairs, exiting the building into the night air.  
"I see an 24 hour apple bees?"  
"Close enough." 

Will walked back from dinner with left over mac and cheese tucked under his arm. The street was slicked with rain that had fallen while Will was eating. He stopped at a curb to cross a street when he heard shuffling in a wooden box under the street light. Will paused, peering over into the box to make sure it wasn't a rat. Instead two german shepherd mixes peered up at Will. Their fur was shaggy and had been matted down with mud. One of the sneezed, his ear turning inside out. Will cooed, diving down to pick up the box. 

He google pet clinic on his phone. And soon Will was sitting in a veteran's office at six in the morning. A max and cheese in one hand, a box of puppies in the other. The vet examined each dog. Gave them a bath and shaved them down. She pressed her fingers along their ribs to check for breaks. Shined a light in their ears, eyes, dow their throat. She turned to Will with a smile and said that their didn't appear to be anything wrong with them. 

"You've got two girls here, probably ten months old." Will shook her hand,  
"Thank you so much, Ms. Bauer." She handed Will dewormer pills, "crush in their food, for the next two days. They should be good, I suggest you do so for your other dogs." Will nodded, taking the pill bottle, and they talked about dog food until the dogs began to get restless. 

Will walked back to his hotel room with a new kennel, he was exhausted. The dogs yipped happily when the puppies were set on the floor.  
"Everyone meet Bailey and Bauer." 

"Bauer and Bailey meet everyone." He sat them down and the scuttled forward, sniffing each other. 

The following train ride was much shorter. When they finally stopped in Lithaunia, Will had caught his lost sleep on the train. He rented another pet friendly hotel room with now nine dogs in tow. He played with the dogs. Tossing rope toys and wrestling. Bailey was scolded softly for biting the other dogs. And Baurer got angry if the other dogs challenged her space or authority. Soon the others had begun to set up a new dynamic, with Baurer onto. She liked Zoe the best, growling at her the least. 

When everyone had settled down Will slipped out the front door, heading into the city.  
"Excuse me," he asked a woman in street shop, she had beaded rosaries laid out, with various bible scenes in them. The woman looked up, "Dah, do you have a question?" She said, her voice in a thick slavic accent. Will rubbed his neck,  
"Have you heard of this place?" She showed the woman a picture of Hannibal's old home. The woman nodded solemnly, "are you one of those urban explorers? I've been told to warn your kind that the groundskeeper has a gun and is willing to shoot introduers." Will blinked in shock, a groundskeeper? 

"No, I'm a friend of the owner, he wants me to come check out the place but he didn't give me proper instructions how to get to the estate." The woman chuckled, "A Lecter knows someone from America?" She huffed, scratching her chin. 

"Also," Will added, "are these for sale?" He pointed at two crosses on the corner of the table. One of them had Fredrick's quote carved in latin on circular center of the cross. The other had flat square with a picture of a skeleton nailed to the cross, a thorn crown perched on the skeleton's head. It reminded Will of Hannibal.  
"Of course," the woman said, "that'll be thirty-three ninety five." 

Walked to the castle with his dogs. The front gate had the Lecter crest branded on it. Will tested the lock, jiggling the center of the gate. It was sturdy. He sighed, "what are you doing here," he thought to himself. Will tied the dogs to the gate and climbed up the side, hiking his leg over the other side. The dogs jumped up and down, trying to follow Will. They were silenced with a small click of Will's tongue. 

Will explored the state of the grounds. It was a thick forest, blanketed with leaves. Will smelled the fresh air, exploring deeper into the brush. He imagined himself running around the grounds with his dogs. In the distance Will heard gun shots, a hunting gun something a groundskeeper would have around. Will followed the sounds, looking for whoever was untrusted to watch the house. 

He crossed through the bushes, pushing his body into the shadows to cloak himself. In between the trees Will could see a tall asian woman dressed black leather. She held a gun, poised to shoot a sightless prey. Will stepped forward, holding his breath. Under his foot a twig snapped. The woman whirled around pointing the gun at Will.  
"Show yourself," she demanded. Will stepped out, his hands tucked to his sides. The woman frowned,  
"Who're you?" Will examined the woman, his eyes peeled back the skull to examine the soft bits of her brain.  
"I know Hannibal, so do you." The woman flinched, lowering her gun on instinct before remembering her situation and raising the gun with more resolve than before. 

"You very dedicated to find Hannibal here, but surely you know he hasn't been here in years." Will stepped closer, "You think of Hannibal as family, Hannibal thinks of you as family, too. But his perception of family is different than yours. You've been here longer than he hasn't." The woman's finger tightened on the trigger, "Who are you?" 

"My name is Will Graham, I'm a teacher for the FBI. Hannibal and I met in America, I haven't come here to look for him. I came here to know him." The woman nodded slowly, "Welcome, Mr. Graham, My name is Chiyoh, I am the groundskeeper for this house." 

She walked over toward the place she had been shooting earlier. She picked a pheasant off the ground, "Would you like to come in for dinner?" Will smiled, "I have to get something really quick." 

Chiyoh stared in disdain at the dogs curled up outside her home. They had vacated to Chiyoh's house, one of the small cabins built around the castle for waitstaff. Her lip twitched minutely in distaste.  
"Are all these your dogs?" Will looked up at Chiyoh unabashed, "Yes. They go with me everywhere." Chiyoh raised her eyebrow pointedly,  
"Isn't that difficult?" Will chewed on his pheasant and shrugged, "if other people make it so, yes." Chiyoh flattened her lips in annoyance, how dare this man waltz in here as if he had a right. It almost reminded her of someone she used to know. She bit back a smile, looking down at her plate. 

"Why do you still stay here," Will asked. Chiyoh blinked in shock,  
"There is a binding here," she said, "something holding me." Will nodded thoughtfully, "Its a very nice house." Chiyoh's eyes flicked between her plate and Will. "It is." Will craned his neck to look out the window at the castle itself. Will wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up. Chiyoh startled, her hand reaching to her gun. Instead Will whistled to his dogs and they followed him as Will took off towards to castle. They trotted at his heels, all nine of them each a different size. They paused when Will stopped at the front of the castle, laying at his feet. 

A large arch stretched above Will, a gaping mouth opened to swallow Will whole. The arch had been carved into a clock tower, the highest tower of the castle itself. The face of the clock was pitch black with golden hands that pulled time along its axis. Will rested a tentative hand on the stone work. He swallowed back emotions as a life that could have been played in his mind. Hannibal, Abigail and Will. The three of them residing in the castle as a family with Will's dogs and any one else Hannibal wanted. Hell he'd even take Bedelia, just short of an arm or a leg. She couldn't walk away unscathed. 

Chiyoh stood behind Will, her arms crossed.  
"It is my job to take care of grounds."  
"But that's not what keeps you here is it?" Chiyoh opened her mouth to lie but Will cut her down.  
"What keeps you here?" Chiyoh sighed, bowing her head. "Follow me," she said. 

On the estate there were four houses in each corner of the castle. Chiyoh's house resided in the north, a dilapidated ruin with herbs growing from the wreckage resided on the west. An touched house sat on the west. And in the southern home Chiyoh kept a great secret. 

Chiyoh pulled a key from her pocket. The key slid into the lock with a clear thunk. Inside someone began to wail. Will's skin crawled, he felt like shards of glass were being pumped through his veins.  
"What-" Chiyoh held up a hand to silence him. She crept through the structure coming to stand in front of a skeleton of a man. His hair matted, his eyes wild. The man reached out, begining to pray. The words were worshipful, laced with a cold malice for a kidnapper. 

"I was left with a burden," Chiyoj explain, "a purpose in life." She kicked up debris from the floor into the old man's cage. He shuttered, spitting back. "Once Hannibal had a sister, who we both loved dearly. Then bad men came and turned our life inside out. I could never bring myself to kill him, but I cannot let him go." Will hummed,  
"Oh, is that all?" He stepped forward to the cage, kicking the door down. Chiyoh shouted raising her gun but Will had descended on the body, snapping his neck. The man fell to the floor with a loud thump. Chiyoh struggled to catch her breath, "wh-"  
"Now that, that's settled-" he bounced on his heels, "I need a drink." Chiyoh looked back and forth between the two men, her mouth unable to form words. 

"I have to go," she said. Will looked back, "hmm?" She battled with her lip not to tremble, "I-are you here to stay?" Will looked dreamily at the estate, "I find myself charmed by certain aspects of the house." Chiyoh began to stew with petulance at her quaint life being disrupted by this messy, messy man. "I am leaving now." She nodded blankly, "yes, if you're here to watch the house then I can leave." Will cocked his head, "Oh? Will you?" 

"Well I'll be taking the western house," Will added, "if you change your mind just tell me." Will whistled sharply. His dogs, wherever they had wandered to, poked their heads out, running to their master. Chiyoh stared at this man understand an image she hadn't before. This man did not appear to fit with Hannibal. Their edges did not align in the puzzle. But now, Chiyoh could see, just how perfect they were for each other. 

Will turned to the west, his dogs following behind in stride. He was glowing with excitement now. Because the castle was his, Will was in charge. He planned to make these ruins a home. And Hannibal could join him, or he could deal with it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will is surveying Castle Lecter.

The entrance was dilapidated. The wood work of the walls had come crashing down and Will had to climb over the wood the cross the hallways into the body of the castle. The long corridor had smashed in windows staring into the hallway, nature had crept in when the windows left. Piles of leaves had gathered on the floor like dust. A large wooden door guarded the castle, it peered curiously at Will wondering who had entered the clock tower. When Will looked up, he could see through the holes in the ceiling several flights of stairs that could take a person to the top. 

Will's feet echoed in the stone work when he walked up to the front door. Will placed a steady hand on the wood, listening to it groan under his touch. He gave a light push, causing the doors to give way, opening up to the ruined foyer. Will stepped in transported to another time. 

The morning light poked through the large holes in the walls. Dew stuck to Will's exposed skin. He shivered, burrowing deeper into his coat. The ceiling was made of vaulted domes separated by wooden slates into spiderweb, painted bright blue to match the white walls. Will stood below it feeling like a fly caught in a trap. He longed to reach out and drag his fingers along the paint. 

To Will's left the hallway was separated, into a curled staircase and an entrance into the next room. To Will's right, was an empty stone room filled with debris, windows looking out into the front of the estate. Will pulled out a mask and marched further into the house. 

Across from the entrance of the home was large room. The floor plan, Chiyoh had left for Will stated clearly what the room once had been but Will couldn't read the short hand French that had faded over time. He found that most of the floorplan was like that and it would be difficult to repurpose each room to it original glory. 

If Will thought about it, he could see the remnants of a picture room. The entrance where strangers would stand waiting for the family to put on their best face and present. If Will really thought about it, he could see a library reminiscent of their shared space back home. With a mezzanine just below the ceiling-this one painted bright red, the spider like pattern unflinching. Will had decided to split his work force in two. The east wing and the west wing. He would follow the sun, beginning at the east end in the morning and the west end in the afternoon. Picking up on the second and third story the next two days. Luckily for Will as far ad he could tell, the third floor was less than three room. But there was still the matter of the cellar which Will was not looking forward to visiting.

Turning to the left, Will exited his future library into, as far as Will could tell from the scratched out French, the second living room. Some of the debris in this room had been swept back into the corners, or intact with the wall. Behind a pile of clutter, Will could see a cracked fireplace. A large hole opened up the room to the back of the estate. Here Will saw a sitting room with a wall made of glass to watch Hannibal work in the garden. Will pulled a notebook from his pocket begining to jot the ideas down. Will made note of a spiral staircase in the corner of the room and decided to test it latter.

The sitting room led into living room number two, the most intact of all the other rooms so far. Will made a note that this room would stay a living room, personalized for Will and Hannibal inparticular. Sitting seats, paintings, liquor cabinets. Will smiled to himself, wiping a gathering sweat from his brow. 

Behind the living room was an office, and a third small room Will decided to convert into a bathroom. The office led into a hallway, it was a spacious corridor that held two exits, the dining room and another office. When Will had sufficiently mapped out the east he regrouped back in the foyer. It was nearing eleven but Will felt famished from climbing. He walked over to the back window to wave at his dogs. The future library was bursting with a light that made Will feel healthy and warm. 

The dogs watched Will pop out the back from the second living room. They bound up to him, tipping eagerly. Will pat them each on the head before he trudged back to the bathroom for a drink. The seconds crawled by slowly as Will prepared his lunch. There were days when his mind was dulled with memories and today his mind had chosen that final night with Hannibal. His eyes were starting to glaze over from the memory of Abigail when Winston nosed at Will's hand, licking the remnants of peanut butter from Will's finger. Will's clicked his tongue and Winston shrunk back, bowing his head in apology. 

Under the mid morning sun, Will sat next to a large pond in the center of the backyard. The water was clogged with leaves, but beautiful ivy covered up the surface, appearing serene and undisturbed. The dogs laid down beside Will in a great cluster, begging for attention. Will's quote was still pulled close to his face to keep his cheeks from turning blue in the chill. 

Once Will finished his lunch, he turned to the west wing. The part of the house where the floor plan was the most damaged. The dogs tried to stick their head through the broken wall of the room Will was surveying. They barked gently as Will scratched notes into the pad. Will looked up at them and laughed,  
"Shush," he said, "It's unspeakably rude to talk in such a manner," he drawled in a crisp american eastern accent that reminded Will of parties Hannibal threw. Will marked an x over the wall looking out at the garden, he'd tear the wall down, place in large windows, a baywindow and turn it into a hobby room for the piano or harpsichord. Will pieces together a work desk in his mind, setting Hannibal's sketches along the walls. 

A large door had kept the connected corridor hidden from the rest of the room. From the cramped space made of kitchens, closets and stairs into the master room upstairs Will figured the servants' quarters needed serious revamping.

Will marked the walls that separated the servants quarters from the rest of the house, connecting the hallway to the room opposite of the stairwell. This would open the front room up to the kitchen. And a second stairwell to the next floor. 

Hannibal would appreciate this kitchen, Will thought to himself as he kicked up bright blue tiles. The whole of the room had been lined with bright blue tiles, Will was sure somewhere in Hannibal's mind they would've waxed poetic about the color of Will's eyes after seeing the kitchen tile. His ever questioning face orbs matched the floor of where I prep food, Will thought to himself with a chuckle. He swept a hand over one of the ovens, surprised by the quality. The house hadn't been used since sixties and several political parties or vagrants had looted the place before Chiyoh had appeared. 

Will crossed off the rest of the floor plan, with no purpose to revamp the rooms further, only to make them suitable to live in. He figured the extra space wasn't Will's if it was this close to the kitchen. He could do whatever he wanted without Will making a fuss so longer as he actually came. Will crawled out of a hole in the wall, popping out into the afternoon sun. His dogs centered up to Will's legs, nuzzling the seam of his dust covered jeans. Will pulled his mask off, scolding them,  
"That's not for you." Winston had the sense to look apologetic, Baurer simply sneezed and continued on his quest to huff any asbestos on Will's clothes. Will pushed him away, toddling over to his shed to change into newer clothes. 

For dinner Will raised Chiyoh's house. She had left behind a half butchered pheasant in a small ice chest. Will picked the pheasant out, starting a fire near the pond to cook the bird near the fire. He placed the pheasant on a pan until its skin began to drip with crackling fat, melting off the flesh. Will's stomach gave a hungry lurch, so Will enjoyed dinner with his bare hands. Tearing at the skin with a zealous glut, pulled the joints back with a satisfying pop. When Will looked up, an audience had gathered by his feet. Thumping their tails on the ground to get Will's attention. Will sighed, flicking over a bit of flesh for each of them.  
"There you go," he whispered, wishing, for the first time ever, he had human company to eat with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next episode. Is Hanni keeping a secret that could rock his and Will's relationship? Does Bedelia have enough expensive booze to keep her sane during the oncoming storm of killers that are about to come raining down on her


	7. Venom and Vinegar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bedelia is dine with florence and wishes she was dead. Hannibal adores Abigail and wants to give her a better life. Abigail hudt wants a perfect family.

Bedelia glanced nervously at the girl in the corner.   
"Does she have to be here during this conversation," Bedelia whispered desperately. Hannibal shot Bedelia a shark like grin that would have appear dazzling to anyone less than intelligent.   
"Abigail has as much right to be here as you do, Bedelia." Abigail shot Bedelia a dazzling smile, folding her hands over her knees,   
"I'm family," she insisted, her eyes glimmering with the unspoken words, 'and you're not.' 

Bedelia cleared her throat,   
"I'm sorry, but it's just..this matter is a bit delicate."   
"Can I be there when you kill Professor Sogliato?" Bedelia's face twisted into a sneer and Hannibal scolded her with a tut of his tongue,   
"We really shouldn't judge other's passions," Hannibal reminded her, "especially when talking to someone so young, you never know what an impact you can make on your with just your face." 

When Bedelia walked to the store in the morning, Abigail walked beside her listening to podcasts from her phone. She nodded to herself silently, every so often breaking out into a wide grin. One morning, the front worker got curious and asked Bedelia about the younger woman.   
"Is this your daughter?" Bedelia opened her mouth to respond when Abigail cut in,   
"My name is Diana Fell, I'm she's my step mom." Bedelia felt her face go white with rage. 

"You little brat," Bedelia hissed as they walked into the apartment. Hannibal poked his head around the corner, sneering, "Bedelia, may we keep our language polite to family members?" Bedelia clutched her grocery basket, "She told the clerk, her fake name and introduced me as her step mother, it's going to open up questions. How're you going to answer them? Fell didn't have kids, he was never remarried. She's opening up loose ends!" 

Hannibal held up a hand to placate her,   
"Patience, Bedelia. Abigail is merely expressing herself...besides no one here know Proffesor Fell and his wife. We could say nearly anything and we'd be above suspicion." Bedelia thrust her finger at Hannibal, voice flat, "you're going to get us caught." Abigail giggled,   
"That's the plan." Bedelia's eyes bugged out of her head,   
"You want us to get caught?" Abigail's eyes flicked over to Hannibal. His lips twitched softly. Abigail shrugged and left the room. 

Abigail leaned over Proffesor Sogliato. Hannibal held the knife in her hand steady to calm the tremor in her fingers.   
"When you cut into the skin, you need to cut with a straight downward line to preserve the interior." Abgail nodded, stilling her hand and matching the stroke of her knife with the arch of her breath. Sogliato twitched, the ice pick buried hilt deep in the side of his head keeping the man braindead. 

Bedelia held her spoon with white knuckled horror. Her eyes flicked back and forth as she muttered,   
"What the hell," under her breath until it became a prayer for the god forsaken child to just leave. 

Hannibal turned back to Bedelia, not a drop of blood speckled his face. Abigail on the other hand, was a huntress. Highlighted by the light of a pale silver moon that made the blood look black on her skin. She looked corrupt, unfit somehow. Bedelia clutched the spoon tighter and imagined a second of time to turn in her favor. She imagined herself, lunging across the table to grab Abigail's hair. She imagined her hand using the spoon to carve out all the corruption in her pale flesh. She wasn't sure how Hannibal would react to his kin being hurt in such a way. 

Hannibal shot her an amused look, that concealed a rarely seen blatant wrath that told Bedelia all she needed to know. Bedelia ducked her head in submission, going back to spooning oysters into her trembling mouth. The man let out a pathetic groan complaining of a loss of sight. In a fit of panic, Bedelia flew to her feet to yank the ice pick from his brain. Sogliato's head hit the table with a dull thunk, it bounced as he whined like a crippled dog. Hannibal turned to face Bedelia, looking largely unsatisfied. 

"Not only did you disturb practice, you also took Abigail's pleasure of having her first kill." Bedelia wanted to scream,   
"I don't care!" She caught Abigail's eyes, who burned a deep glare into the thick of Bedelia's skull. 

The next morning Abigail woke up before the sun rose. She stood up, pulling back her curtains to peer down at the steaming streets of florence below. As the sun began to rise, Abigail limped into the kitchen with bathrobe tied over her nightgown. She flipped the switches of the coffee machine, sitting down to read the mornings news on her phone. Sogliato had yet to be found. 

Bedelia shuffled into the room she and Hannibal shared. Her eyes bleary with sleep. Abigail put on a superficial grin, offering her a mug of coffee. Bedelia eyes her warily, taking the coffee with a nervous frown.   
"Careful Bedelia," Hannibal shuffled put of the master bedroom, tying his own bathrobe that matched Abigail's to the last detail. "Abigail has been experimenting in the kitchen and I'm afraid she has taken a fondness to less than tasty materials." Bedelia's dropped the coffee mug, ignoring the twitch of Hannibal's lips. 

"You poisoned my coffee?" Abigail sneered,   
"Of course not, I put vinegar in your coffee." She flashed Bedelia a sparkling smile,   
"I put venom in your food." She held up a plate of syrup covered pancakes to Bedelia, "want one?"

Bedelia placed a soft hand on her lips,   
"No thank you." She turned to leave, when Hannibal cornered her,   
"I must insist you stay for breakfast." Abigail nodded solemnly, "A family eats together." 

Hannibal pulled out a chair for Bedelia,   
"But instead, they give me poison for food; they offer me sour wine for my thirst," he quoted, "But I'm sure Abigail more likely heard it as, "When I was hungry, they gave me poison; when I was thirsty, they offered me vinegar." He beemed adoringly at Abigail. 

Bedelia nodded listlessly considering just eating the food and not giving Hannibal the satisfaction of prolonging the game.   
"Many people historically were poisoned," Abigail told Bedelia, "Shakespeare wrote Cleopatra as a lusty temptress that took her life with an asp bite or more likely cobra venom. She was actually a skilled strategist, who adored her family." Bedelia preened under her words. 

"The scripture I had in mind when I placed Cobra venom in your food was when God cursed the Prophets of Jerusalem for unadultery. Unlike Cleopatra who stayed faithful even when Mark Antony was called back to fight the crushing forces of Rome." Abigail finished up her pancakes as Bedelia composed herself with a response.   
"It is especially unhealthy for little girls to convince themselves they sit at a table they don't belong at." Abigail merely grinned, shooting back, "I have proven I can sit here, what have you done other than hope on a plane to save your own ass." She excused herself, setting the plate in the kitchen sink. Hannibal watched her leave with adoration.


	8. Cleaning the house

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not only is Will cleaning out the house, he's starting to clean out the toxic pieces of shit in his life.

The halls of Castle Lecter were lined with angry cherubim. Their mouths rounded in a sour scowl that mimicked whistling. Will stared at the little figurines with distaste, he looked down at the hammer in his hand and briefly thought about smashing through it's coy face. 

The master bedroom was still largely intact. When Will tapped on the walls he could hear stuff rustling around. That could be fixed, as could the probably lead filled paint that would all have to be peeled back. When Will had asked Chilton about it, he had joked that instead of painting the walls back up again Will could just find the most gaudy print imaginable and the pattern alone would be enough to convince Hannibal to stay. 

Will kindly asked Frederick who gave him the right to make fun of his soulmate in such a way. To which Frederick responded with tipping back a whole whiteclaw in under two minutes to Will's astonishment.  
"It's like watching a gaggle of college girls," Will choked out through bursts of laughter. 

One night after sweeping up all the stones in the library, Will opened up the computer he had brought to check his gmail. Several emails from Freddie Lounds popped up, with the same gloating trill of the anemic, criminal stalking red head. The title page,  
"Victims find love?" Was pasted clear as day on a picture of Will and Frederick sitting together at the bar. Will snorted, turning Winston,  
"How would you feel about Frederick being your new dad?" Winston chewed into the carpet Will had found at the store. 

The next email came from Alana. It was gloatful like Freddie's but had an air of nonpluss that could only be achieved by someone desperate.  
"Will, we haven't made contact in a while. I know something most have happened to you because Price and Zeller didn't seem to anxious when I brought up your disappearance. Frederick has been holding the whole thing over my head and it's hard not to let certain thoughts wander into the mind, I'm begining to worry and Jack is to. Did you cut off contact with just us to run away, I know Frederick advised you to run away from your problems. But it's not a healthy solution, I would say as your friend and a psychiatrist the only way to face yourself is to stand your ground here and listen to your closest friends. Or, did you go in search of Hannibal? I know things were becoming twisted between the two of you, but you must know the line between his hate for you and your obsession with him." 

Will nearly slammed his laptop into the floor after reading it, in fact, he almost paid a print shop a dollar to print out here email so Will could burn it. Instead, Will called Frederick and read the whole thing over again while considerably drunk until there was nothing but tears of laughter streaming down his face. 

"By the way," Will asked later on, "Did you tell Jimmy and Brian where I was going?" Frederick's face glowed,  
"Nope," he clicked his tongue, "You told 'em. After you went missing they called me to ask if I knew about your plan to go looking for Hannibal in europe, said you told them about it when you were drunk." Will shook his head,  
"No, and they let me?" Frederick nodded, "They didn't think you were serious until you actually left." Will huffed, "Well I'll make sure to call them later, I suppose." 

Will had swept all the rooms clean enough to see every inch. He had pinned plastic tarps for the holes in the walls and ceilings. The house was in a great condition to be renovated, Will had been planning to use some of the original brick work to fix the holes, but after putting his fist in one of his repaired walls-it was totally an accident. Will decided to buy a more modern substitute. Soon everything would be in livable condition, Will felt excitement biting at his teeth as he stood from the highest balcony in the clock tower. His eyes shun with pride, this would be a home worth living in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the short chapter. I got to into the research of the house and meticulously making sure every last detail was right and I broke down. Next chapter will be better, I'm going to have an amazing time writing It. 
> 
> *Jack races to Florence, not knowing someone else looking for Hannibal is following shortly after. And Bedelia starts looking for a way out of her self created hell, but she might just end up on the menu.*


	9. The door

Outside the door a stranger sat. They held something in their hands, legs crossed as they stared through the glass door. If you squint you could see the outline of the figure, their heads cocked back in almost a relaxed stupor that came from waiting longer than expected. 

Abigail turned to Hannibal who was humming along the radio.   
"Who's at the door?" Hannibal looked up from the kitchen sink, stretching his neck to see who was sitting outside their apartment, "Dinner," he said with a grin, tucking a knife in the dip of his back as he crept toward the door. With an air of finality, he turned the knob all dramatic and slow. Abigail held her breath as the hinges swung. 

Jimmy Price paused, outside the office door Frederick sat, swinging his cane methodically. Jimmy's hand rested on the door, as he held it open for the man to come in.   
"What're you doing here?" Frederick grunted, pulling himself from the seat and balancing on his cane. He feet shuffled awkwardly on the carpet floor.   
"Unfortunately Mr. Crawford had forgotten to mention to his supervisors that he booked a last minute ticket to Florence, a minor mistake it could happen to anybody really. But Jack decided to go ahead with his plans for italy and entrusted his position with Alana Bloom in his absence." 

Jimmy looked over at Brian who lingered by the autopsy table, with a scarlett flush on his face.   
"That doesn't explain why you're here." Frederick leered, with a fake confidence as he panicked internally, "Alana Bloom has decided to play the little angel on the shoulder of Mason Verger. He's very popular among psychologist's circles for his particular brand of daddy issues. Jack's bosses decided working two jobs would be too much of a strain on poor Alana, and obviously I would be the next step down the ladder." 

Brian finally pipped up,  
"So what does that mean?" Frederick felt himself recoil in fear, despite every other piece of Frederick's sensible brain telling him not to, the more impulsive part of him was desperate for the couple's approval. "I guess that means I'm your boss today," he applauded softly, "yippee, lucky you." Jimmy chuckled, "okay boss, well we were just reviewing the kidnapping of a high government officials daughter and in the tire treads left behind at the scene we found trace amounts of chlorine processed for pools." Frederick nodded, "I've been briefed, but it it is my understanding that Jack had a disagreement with the two of you on the process of researching." 

Brian felt like he was going to swallow his tongue,   
"He's frantic, doesn't want the girl to get hurt which we understand, but-"   
"But he told us to start looking at every pool in the area of Baltimore that we previously established the girl could be in." Frederick tapped his cane on the floor,   
"And?" 

"We think we should expand the search to all chemical plants in the area that deal with chlorine." Frederick shrugged,   
"So do it." They gaped at Frederick,   
"What," Jimmy stuttered. Frederick shrugged, "Jack is all bureaucracy when it come to using the FBI's money, he's worried about losing his job, especially after his disaster with the Ripper. However, I don't have to worry about getting fired. He told Dr. Bloom that she wasn't allowed to make any changes to his plans, you're lucky I'm not Dr. Bloom or this would've gone differently." He ground his cane into the carpet, "Well, I'll be in Jack's office pilfering for his good pens." 

"Unless," Jimmy added,   
"Unless," Brian asked. "Unless you wanted to sit out here with us," Jimmy said, looking down at his shoes. Frederick grinned, inside peeling apart with anxiety.   
"I'd love to." 

Jack followed Will's steps around Florence until the trail went cold after he bought a train ticket to no one knows where. Alana insists Frederick does, and Jimmy and Brian. After two days of lecturing his researchers about honesty and trust, Jack finally broke and demanded Brian tell him where Will was. Brian blinked slowly at him,   
"Dude," he muttered, "You'd have to get me wasted before I even talked about Will with you." He packed up the day and left, followed by Jimmy who mentioned something about his cat. Like Jack didn't know they had been living together longer than they had been sleeping together. 

The Florence police had given Jack photos of the heart, but no matter what Jack saw it was nothing that Will could see. Think Crawford, he thought to himself as he sat looking at the water taxi's crawl across the large canals. The air smelled like the same bitter summer of urban baltimore. 

It was a heart, Hannibal had crafted a heart for someone. Maybe for Bedelia, to gloat in Will's face over his change in affections. Copious research into Anthony Dimmond's history didn't help Jack and he felt just as clueless as he did when Hannibal's true face pierced the veil. 

______

Hannibal blinked slowly, sitting outside his apartment was Chiyoh, clad in travel wear with her suit cases in her hand.   
"Your boyfriend is an asshole," she told Hannibal calmly, pushing past him. "Who's this?" She examined Abigail from a distance, "Does it bite," she joked with a flat tone that left Abigail feeling slightly confused. 

"She could tear your throat with her teeth," Hannibal told Chiyoh with pride. Chiyoh looked back at Abigail and flashed her an icy smile, "you must be their daughter, then." Hannibal offered Chiyoh a glass of wine, which she set on the table paying it little mind. 

"Will has come to take the position as Castle Lecter's keeper away from me." She stared Hannibal in the eyes, "he's is renovating it to fit a family and he brought dogs."   
"Hannibal?" Bedelia wondered out of the bedroom, "who's this?" Chiyoh's hand flew to her gun but Hannibal caught her. 

"Please, Chiyoh. This is my guest."   
"Unwanted guest," Abigail muttered into her collar. "Bedelia," Hannibal asked," Please leave the room." Bedelia sneered, turning on her heels to exit the living room. Hannibal composed himself and acknowledged Chiyoh again, "He's renovating for a family?" Chiyoh nodded,   
"For you, only you he thought. He told me, you took a daughter from him but appears that was an illusion." Hannibal's eyes went glassy, "I can't go back," he insisted. Abigail groaned, "Jesus, neither of you are going to ever get together." She pointed at Hannibal, "You're too stubborn to let Will win, Will has no cause to leave, he's convinced he's apologizing." 

Hannibal turned to Chiyoh, ignoring his daughter.   
"Anything else?"   
"On the way in," she added, "I heard a man named Mr. Jack Crawford asking about someone that fit your description and that woman's description." Hannibal grinned, his mouth twisted into a point that caused goose bumps to roll down Chiyoh's arms. 

"I'll bring Will to me," Hannibal told Abigail, "He'll come for Jack Crawford, no matter the cost." Abigail crossed her arms, squinting at Hanninal, "You want to lure the guy you like back to Italy with his old, shitty boss." Hannibal shook his head, disappearing into the master bed room, he popped back out carrying a black duffel bag.   
"Chiyoh, feel free to pick a spare room. Abigail and I are going out." 

Hannibal took Abigail by the hand, pulling her out the front door. Chiyoh flinched as it slammed shut behind his back.   
"Curious," she muttered to herself, turning down the hall to find an empty room. 

As Hannibal and Abigail descended into the night, Hannibal muttered under his breath all the things he wanted to say to Will. Abigail listened to them, with an exasperated frown permanently on her face. Hannibal led Abigial down back alleys, following behind tourists until he finally picked up the smell of Jack. The man was woebegone, ready to turn in for the night. 

Only Hannibal had other plans, he needn't lure Jack out now. Jack was to be the bait instead, the bait for Hannibal's dear Will. Abigail pulled her sweater hood close to her face and approached Jack with a heavy italian accent asking for help. Jack unable to see Abigail in the dark, grabbed Abigail by the shoulders to steady her, by the time Jack felt the needle in his elbow it was too late. He gasped aloud, eyes roving around, finally he found his target. Hannibal perched over Jack with a slack face. Inside he reveled in the opportunity his body presented.  
\----  
The investigator stood outside the door, his hand raised to knock on the glass. A store owner had directed him here, claiming the woman in the photograph matched the woman who came in everyday buying their most expensive product. Jack had told the investigator not to call in his findings, he told the investigator of the listening ears Hannibal had up everywhere.   
"Hello," the investigator knocked on the door, his other hand resting on his gun tucked away in it's holster. 

The same blonde woman opened the door. She smiled, inviting the inspector in.   
"Is everything alright?" The inspector explained his search, he asked the woman about any suspicious subjects in the area, he gave her time to confess. And she did, once she told the inspector her sins they all just kept pouring out her mouth as she begged for help to escape from the monster holding her captive. The investigator nodded, taking the woman his arms turning to leave the front door. To his horror, a man waited for the investigator with a knife in his hand. The same man that had ruined his career.   
"Two birds," the man chuckled aloud. "One stone," a young girl finished, pulling out a cross bow from a duffel bag the man was holding. The man fell to the ground with Bedelia, his dead and lifeless body slammed the ground hard, so did Bedelia's. She watched the instigators bleed out in front of her as her vision swarmed over with black. 

The first thing she was was the front door, the memories of Abigail standing at the front door with her crossbow was etched into Bedelia's mind. When Bedelia fully came to, she found that her body had been strapped to a chair with Abibail sitting across from her, the mysterious asian woman on her left. To Bedelia right Hannibal stood with a cut of meat on his plate. He glared down at Beelia with that same sharp grin,   
"Let's eat," he enthused.


	10. Are you coming?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everyone misinterprets the meaning of the word subtle. I added another dog because why not. Abd dinner is a dish best served with company, unless that company is strapped to a table begging for help.

Alana closed her eyes, the air around her was marred by the sickly smell of blood. Too familiar, too much at once.   
"Dr. Bloom," Mason asked, holding out a cutlet of meat for Alana to take. "The pigs need feeding," he gloated. The meat had been wrapped around the blade of a pocket knife. Alana stuck her hand out with a tentative sigh, she slid the meat off the dagger to flick it in the pig pen. The pigs descended on the morsel, gnashing pointed teeth. 

"You're a regular pig owner," Mason told her. "Right, Margot?" He turned around to face his sister, her hands folded in her lap. She had a sad smile on her face that Alana hated to see. "Yeah she does," Margot looked up at Alana, her eyes tracing over her body. 

Mason muttered to himself, spasming in the wheelchair that his body had been hitched to.   
"Dr. Bloom, talk to me...give me the good lord's will." Alana tapped her fingers on the head of her cane, "Jack Crawford's body was found in Florence...his lips were sewed shut with instrument strings commonly used in a lyre. A patch skin had been removed from his back, forensics found his skin on-" Alana struggled to catch her breath, "His skin had been used to make a drum and to holster a bench for the body to sit on." Mason's face contorted in an ugly sneer, "Nifty," he drawled, "Anything else?" Alana nodded, turning the page, "Donkey ears had been stitched to the space where his ears used to be, police reports claim the body's brain was missing." 

Hannibal placed a plate in front of Abigail, running his hands through his daughter's hair affectionately. There were three seats at the table when Hannibal placed a platter on the table top.   
"The common horror story that follows tales of cannibalism is the god stricken madness that follows," he sat with Abigail to his left. 

"The wrath of a divine being was, as it turns out the effects of sickness in the meat or the brains." He looked up and smiled at the person sitting to his right. Bedelia trembled, her eyes flicked helplessly to Chiyoh, who sat calmly at the bar, a bowl of salad in her hand. "Let's hope Jack hasn't been consuming any foreign substances lately." Abigail snickered, taking her fork in hand.   
"Bon appetit," Hannibal told Bedelia. 

Will had peeled back all the paint in the upstairs room, he had contacted a government official to come down and look for asbestos to which the man cheerfully told Will that everything looked in order. And turned the other way when Will cane up short in cash in exchange for three candy bars, a brick from the castle's waste, and a six pack of american beer. 

Later that night Will had gathered his dogs to the master bed room. He had laid out a tarp for them to lay on, and nailed all the holes in the walls up with pieces of plastic or wood. The speakers of Will's phone rattled as he played the soundtrack to an obscure Disney movie he remembered his dad renting for him when he was eight. With his jeans rolled up, dancing about barefoot, Will wiped down the old wood floors with an industrial mop.   
"Why should I worry," he sang to his dogs, holding the mop up like a microphone, "Why should I care." He slid across the center of the master bedroom marveling at its size, the large stone windows looming over Will like a gaping maw. "I may not have a dime," he trilled, "But I've got street savoir-faire." Baurer woofed, her head tipping back. 

"Sing it Winston," Will shouted, feeling a rush of happiness in his chest. He felt nothing dragging him down in that moment like all the little weights in his life that had been tying him down were meaningless now. Will reached over to the tarp for a chip. He looked down to see the bag was empty,   
"Crap, that was the last bag." He would have to go out tomorrow, and no one seemed particularly friendly to the american guy who had just arrive in town. Will cranked up the volume of his phone. 

Bedelia leaned over the side of the couch, her legs felt numb and weighted down. Hannibal had done something to them when her head had hit the floor, she could barely lift her toes.   
"How did you find yourself here," she asked the pretty woman, she hoped wasn't a serial killer and more importantly didn't think Bedelia was an idiot. The woman paused from knitting a black and red scarf that went to her knees, "Hannibal is in object terms, my brother." Bedelia licked her bottom lip, "And in a subjective term?" The woman's lips sharpened into a smile, "Someone who I would lay down my life for, someone who I would guarantee their happiness and safety." She bared her teeth at Bedelia. 

Hannibal swooped in, carrying mugs of hot tea and bourbon. He placed a mug on the tray Bedelia had been given, and Abigail whisked her away to the master bedroom. It was now just Hannibal and Chiyoh in the room.   
"I want him back," he told Chiyoh. Chiyoh closed her eyes picturing a world of endless forests like home, endless regulated hunting and no such thing as the Lecters. For just a second, she imagined herself thriving in this world. But then she knew she would miss Hannibal terribly.   
"Go see him."   
"I can't go back," Hannibal fretted.   
"Then don't."   
"But I love him." Chiyoh shrugged,   
"Then go see him." Hannibal clapped his hand against his thigh, "No, Will is being irrational. If he truly wanted a life with me he'd return here, to be with me." He drummed his fingers on his knees, "Do you think he saw my gift?" Chiyoh looked up from her knit work, peering at Hannibal with narrowed eyes, "How long has it been?"   
"A day?" She rolled her eyes hard enough that Hannibal winced, "He probably hasn't noticed yet." Hannibal brought his hands to his lips almost in worry, "But it's made international news!" 

Somewhere Will was wondering through the markets of Lithunia. His eyes wondered about until it caught something. His face dropped,   
"Oh my god," he whispered in horror. On the corner of a vendor, there was a news paper stand with a small box nestled on top. In the box was a doberman pinscher mix, nestled in his blankets with two big dollar signs drawn underneath. Will pulled the last of his grocery money for the day and rushed over to the stall. 

Hannibal sulked, settling his chin on the palm of his hand.   
"I probably made him angry." Chiyoh hummed, "If you really want to draw him out so badly, you have to use better bait." She was picturing some way of contacting Will to imply his daughter was safe and alive. 

Hannibal leered,   
"I have just the idea." He pulled on his coat, storming out the door. He exited to the night streets of Florence, following his feet to a memory he thought he wouldn't have to call upon so soon. Through back alleys and front streets Hannibal arrived in front of a large apartment building, he rung the door bell to be answered by a scrappy irish man, who had moved to Italy to avoid a disturbance of the peace jailing.   
"Nick," Hannibal purred, this younger man reeked of blood. Nick stuttered, "Mr. Lecter. I thought you wouldn't be calling again." Hannibal leaned closer, "The man I was telling you of, the one who I said couldn't leave my mind." Nick licked his teeth, clawing at his own clothes to adjust himself to Hannibal's inspection. "What about him?"   
"I have been disappointed immeasurably." He leaned in whispering, "And I don't know how I could properly incur my wrath." Nick nodded, "I would be happy to do anything to make that boy miserable." Hannibal grinned, if Will wasn't going to be motivated by a friend's death, he was going to be motivated by his anger for Hannibal. And then Hannibal would introduce Will to Abby, and the chatuea Hannibal was arranging to house Will's extensive collection of dogs. Of course Will couldn't stand to stay angry after that. 

As Will was walking home that night with his new dog, Orlando tucked under his arm. He stopped in front of another news paper stall with the words Ripper printed on the top page. Will pulled in a deep breath before sighing, "You know what," he muttered, "I don't care, I'm perfectly fine here, I'm not going to pursue it." He walked away, excited to introduce Orlando to his new family. 

Later that night, Will set up a facetime call with Frederick while Jimmy and Brian hovered in the background. Brian was blank faced with shock and Jimmy was doing his best to console him.   
"He's with his wife now, right Frederick?" Frederick looked up from his glass, "Yes, Brian. Look at this way, he's no longer being tortured over his pursuit for the Ripper." Will coughed stiffly.   
"Where are you even Graham," Jimmy asked, "Because I'm pretty sure if you were in Florence the news would be having a field day." Will lifted his beer, "I've decided to stop caring, I've moved into my own castle in Lithuania. I'm renovating it, I have five plus dogs." Brian sat up,   
"You got more, show me!" Frederick and Jimmy watched Brian gush over dogs with Will, totally endeared to his rambling.   
"His name is Orlando," Brian gasped, "That is the best name ever!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise I will get Abigial to say okay boomer to Bedelia in one of these chapters.

**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr is hanging from apses I take submissions for fanfics for any fandom any OTP. Your comments help me finish any feed back will be,answered. Your kudos is better than coffee.


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